Princess
Eliza would much rather be doing the things normal girls do, like going
to parties and meeting unsuitable men, but instead she's surrounded by
bodyguards 24/7. Until she makes her escape...and disaster strikes!

There's
no one more unsuitable than narcotics cop Xavier Rivera, but the Miami
bad boy is the only person who can help the kidnapped princess. Lost in
the Caribbean together, they're going to need each other to survive.

Being
shipwrecked on a desert island might turn out to be the best thing that
ever happened to both of them. But will what happens on the island stay
on the island?

A romantic comedy about royals, castaways, and
the dubious merits of tweed, NOT YOUR PRINCE CHARMING is a sequel to NOT
YOUR CINDERELLA.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

All Jamie wants to do is finish his PhD and live a life of quiet academic obscurity, but since he’s actually Prince Jamie of Wales, that’s not likely to happen. All his family wants is for him to find a suitable bride, but the local pub probably isn’t the place he should be looking.

Clodagh shouldn’t be falling for a prince. She’s worked too hard to improve her life and leave her shady past behind to get derailed by romance anyway, and all the press scrutiny that comes with royalty would be a nightmare with her background.

But the sparks won’t stop flying between them, and soon all Clodagh and Jamie can do is try to limit the fire.

A story about royalty, computer sciences, geeky t-shirts and cult musicals. And a pub.

Saturday, March 24, 2018

All Jamie wants to do is finish his PhD and live a life of quiet academic obscurity, but since he’s actually Prince Jamie of Wales, that’s not likely to happen. All his family wants is for him to find a suitable bride, but the local pub probably isn’t the place he should be looking.

Clodagh shouldn’t be falling for a prince. She’s worked too hard to improve her life and leave her shady past behind to get derailed by romance anyway, and all the press scrutiny that comes with royalty would be a nightmare with her background.

But the sparks won’t stop flying between them, and soon all Clodagh and Jamie can do is try to limit the fire.

A story about royalty, computer sciences, geeky t-shirts and cult musicals. And a pub.

Clickbait.com: Is Prince Jamie the world’s most eligible bachelor?
Yes, and here’s why:
1. His grandmother is the Queen of England, and his father, Prince Frederick, will be King some day.2. Jamie is a man who knows how to serve his country: as a captain in the royal regiment of the Coldstream Guards he served two tours in Afghanistan.3. The further away he gets from inheriting the throne, the more chilled out he is. Born fourth in line, after the birth of his niece and nephew he’s dropped to sixth, and does a lot of charity work.4. He’s super smart: he graduated UCL with a First Class Honours degree in Computer Science ten years ago, and now he’s been accepted in the PhD program at the world-famous Cambridge University.5. His hair. Come on, have you ever seen a man with hair that thick and wavy and totally run-your-hands-through-it-gorgeous? We want to know what products he uses!Next article: 23 ways you’re eating avocado wrong!

“I dunno, you young people, always sexting and texting.”
Clodagh looked up from her phone. One of the regulars stood at the bar, drink empty.
“I wasn’t texting, and do you even know what sexting is?” She hurriedly shut down the animated gif of Prince Jamie’s hair blowing in the wind, and put her phone facedown behind the bar. “I was actually doing very important research. For… my… night school course.”
His smile said he didn’t believe her for a second. “All right, love. Have it your way. Get yourself an education and a better job, don’t stay in this dive for the rest of your life. But while you are here,” he added, sliding his tankard onto the bar, and Clodagh rolled her eyes.
“Another pint of Abbot?”
“Please.”

Jamie’s sister was shouting silently at him. She was angry; he could tell by the pink spots on her cheeks. Victoria hated those pink spots. Hated her complexion being anything other than peaches and cream. She took a make-up artist quite literally everywhere with her. Jamie hadn’t seen his own sister bare-faced since she was about fourteen.
“James William Frederick Henry,” he made that bit out by lip reading, “will you…”
The rest was lost over the noise of his headphones, but Jamie could more or less figure out the gist. Take off those bloody headphones before I…
“…rip them off your bloody head!” she finished, as he paused his game and slipped the headphones down over his neck.
“So sorry, Vicky. Didn’t hear you.”
“Do not call me Vicky.” She smoothed down hair that didn’t need smoothing.
“You used to prefer it.”
“It’s common.” The greatest insult from Victoria. “Put down that…that bloody thing, will you?”
Jamie looked at the controller in his hand. It was customised, given to him on a factory tour before they’d even gone on sale. “This bloody thing is a prototype and therefore wholly unique. I soldered a bit of circuitry on it, you know,” he added proudly.
Victoria sighed as if he was the most tormenting creature in the universe. “Yes, we know. Most thrilling day of your life. It’s a bit of wire, Jamie. You’re sixth in line to the throne.” Yes, and I know which fascinates me more. Sighing, Jamie took his lovely noise-cancelling headphones off completely. Goodbye silence, my old friend.
“Was there something you wanted, sister dearest, or do you just hate Lara Croft?”
“You’re so lame. Vincent’s looking for you. Says it’s time to get ready.” Oh, bollocks. Jamie knew he ought to remember what he should be getting ready for, but he’d been so absorbed in the sidequest he’d been playing he’d forgotten the time. And now…oh yes. Bugger. Here was Vincent with the red tunic of the Coldstream, which paired with the blue riband of the Royal Victorian Order usually made him look like a macaw. Vincent’s assistant Graham was busy laying out the medals, badges and random bits of gold braiding so beloved of these occasions.
“Her Highness requested it specially,” said Vincent before Jamie could speak.
His gaze flew to his sister, who smoothed down her elegant and un-peacockish dress, which did not clash with her own blue riband, and said, “He means Isabella. She wants everyone in dress uniforms, especially the godparents,” she added pointedly, and Jamie tried to look like he totally remembered he was becoming a godparent for the fifteenth time today.
“Nearly had to get Granny to invent something for Anthony until someone remembered he was in the TA for about five minutes.” She marched to the door. “Could be worse, remember Anthony wanted to be a Highlander,” was her parting shot.
Great. Well, she was right, at least he wasn’t in tartan.
“I’ll be infested with magpies,” he said, taking off his sweatshirt. His nice comfortable sweatshirt in its nice plain shade of blue with its nice picture of the Death Star on it.
“No, sir, the falconers have been out,” said Vincent, who Jamie suspected as having had his sense of humour surgically removed some time ago.
“Of course they have. All right.” Jamie stripped off his t-shirt and Vincent took it as if it was radioactive. Jamie gave him a bright grin, because annoying Vincent with his geek t-shirts was one of his favourite things. This one just said, ‘It’s not magic, it’s science!’ which was fairly tame compared with some of his collection.
“Don’t lose that,” he warned as he kicked off his jeans. “Put it with the others.”
“Sir, I have never lost your laundry,” Vincent said in wounded terms, handing Jamie his special seamless controlling underwear. No one wanted a visible reminder he was a human male under his impeccably tailored uniform trousers.
Vincent and Graham gave every indication of not noticing their boss was naked, which always impressed the hell out of and annoyed Jamie in equal measure.
“Yeah, but I can just imagine how many of them will end up in ‘storage’,” he said darkly.
“If this is the case, sir, you can only blame your new bedder,” said Vincent with distaste, handing Jamie his undershirt.
“She’s not going to be doing my laundry,” said Jamie. “I’ve got a washing machine.”
Vincent and Graham stared at him, more shocked than they had been when they discovered the tattoo Jamie had got in Afghanistan.
“Whatever for, sir?” said Vincent, recovering first. For mixing cocktails, what do you think? “Well, because washing by hand is a bit of a faff,” he said instead.
The two men gaped at him. Jamie smiled at them and held out his arms. “Now remind me,” he said. “Trousers go on over my head, right?”

“Arms up,” said Clodagh, patiently holding out the little jumper.
“No!”
“Hollee. Put your arms up.”
“No!” Hollee thrust her arms out instead.
“Christ’s sake, it’s like dressing an octopus.”
Hollee slapped her hand over her mouth. “Umm! Naughty word!”
Clodagh took the opportunity to ram the jumper down over her niece’s head and reach through the sleeve for her hand.
“Mummy! Auntie Sharday said a naughty word!”
“Shar, don’t fucking swear,” said her sister, and turned back to her phone.
The coffee shop was overcrowded with buggies and playing a different music from the mall outside. The clash was not helping Clodagh’s temper.
“I’ll think about it if you stop calling me Sharday.”
“It’s the name Mum gave you.”
Clodagh opened her mouth to repeat the argument she’d been having for years, then held her tongue. What the hell was the point? She gave Hollee a grimace of a smile and yanked on her hand. Hollee screamed as if Clodagh had dislocated her shoulder.
“Should’ve put your arms up then, shouldn’t you,” she said.
Hollee started shrieking and slamming her hands on the table. Clodagh felt the eyes of everyone else in the overheated coffee shop turn on them.
“Jesus, Shar, I just asked you to put her jumper on,” said Kylie, grabbing her bawling daughter, who kicked and flailed and knocked over her white mocha latte. “Why is that so difficult?” Because your child is the spawn of Satan, thought Clodagh, but she’d come to blows with her sister often enough over her choice of babydaddy. “When’s Mum getting here?”
“Dunno. She had to go pick up Tyler, but you know that’s just because Whitney don’t wanna talk to that bitch teacher about his ADHD.”
“Tyler has ADHD?” asked Clodagh.
“Yeah, well she says he has but you know he’s just been a little shit since Jayden left. Fuck’s sake, Hollee, I am trying to Instagram. Shar, can you get me another coffee? And some stuff to wipe this up with? Cheers babe.”
Clodagh, glad of the excuse to escape the screaming toddler her sister was ignoring, got up to queue at the counter and promptly got stuck there for twenty minutes when her mother whirled in with an indiscriminate number of her progeny. As Clodagh tried to collate a sensible order, which was impossible since at least two of the children refused to drink anything but Red Bull which the cafe thankfully didn’t sell, her mother started up the litany of complaints that never ceased.
“…so I just turned around and said, well, it’s not my fault you can’t give a proper diagnosis, so she turned around and said, I don’t give the diagnosis, you have to get the Head Psycho to do it—”
“Ed Psych,” murmured Clodagh, who had dealt with a few in her time.
“Yeah, like Nevaeh saw that time, so I said so when are you going to do that and she just gave me this, like, smug look and turned around and said she didn’t ‘believe there was a case for referral’, so I just turned around and said—”
“Don’t you get dizzy?” Clodagh said.
“What?”
“All that turning around.”
Her mother stared at her blankly, then launched into, “No, only when I’ve got one of my headaches. Did I tell you about my headaches, babes? Like, oh my God. This new doctor, right, he doesn’t even speak English, I don’t think he understands what a migraine is. Like yesterday he just turned around and said…”
Clodagh nodded and smiled, and thought about the library book on Mary Seacole she had sitting in her shoulderbag, and ordered another white chocolate bloody latte.

Friday, January 19, 2018

You are invited to a royal wedding...

He’s a prince. She’s a barmaid. It’s never going to work.

All Jamie wants to do is finish his PhD and live a life of quiet academic obscurity, but since he’s actually Prince Jamie of Wales, that’s not likely to happen. All his family wants is for him to find a suitable bride, but the local pub probably isn’t the place he should be looking.

Clodagh shouldn’t be falling for a prince. She’s worked too hard to improve her life and leave her shady past behind to get derailed by romance anyway, and all the press scrutiny that comes with royalty would be a nightmare with her background.

But the sparks won’t stop flying between them, and soon all Clodagh and Jamie can do is try to limit the fire.

A story about royalty, computer sciences, geeky t-shirts and cult musicals. And a pub.

Monday, October 09, 2017

The wonderful Rhoda Baxter has a new book out today calledGirl In Trouble, and I can't wait to read it. Rhoda writes fantastic smart characters--and I mean really smart, with PhD's and stuff, as well as being quick-off-the-mark with a hot retort.

To celebrate the release, I'm going to answer one of Rhoda's blog splash prompts...

Walter thinks hydrothermal vents are beautiful, but no one else does. What is your obscure love/ guilty pleasure, and why?

Okay, this is quite weird so bear with me.

Girl In Trouble: http://books2read.com/u/4Doy6r

Roundabouts. I know, I don't even like driving on them, but since I was a child the flow of traffic on and off, spinning and flaring out like a Catherine wheel has always fascinated me. There's something lovely in the geometry of it.

It's the same with any beautifully designed machine. Form and function, the structural dynamics of flow, whatever. I can look at the pistons pumping on a V8 for longer than is seemly, and the other day I spent so long staring at the flow of water around a rock pool that even the dog got bored and ran away. It's probably all because of that Physics prize I won in Year Nine...

Honourable mentions must go to:

New magazine smell. New book smell is a well-known thing, but I also love the smell of a fresh magazine. I used to get more pleasure from smelling them than reading them.Also related is Petrol. The smell of the forecourt. Love it.

Raw potato. Used to drive my mum mad by nicking bits of it before she could cook it. Now I annoy myself by doing the same.

Grown up tomboy Olivia doesn't need a man to complete her. Judging by her absent father, men aren't that reliable anyway. She's got a successful career, good friends and can evict spiders from the bath herself, so she doesn't need to settle down, thanks.

Walter's ex is moving his daughter to America and Walter feels like he's losing his family. When his friend-with-benefits, Olivia, discovers she's
pregnant by her douchebag ex, Walter sees the perfect chance to be part of a family with a woman he loves.

But how can Walter persuade the most independent woman he's ever met to accept his help, let alone his heart?

Girl In Trouble is the third book in the award nominated Smart Girls series by Rhoda Baxter. If you like charming heroes, alpha heroines and sparkling dialogue, you'll love this series. Ideal for fans of Sarah Morgan, Lindsey Kelk or Meg Cabot's Boy books.

Max has always eaten life in very small bites. Now it's coming at her in great big mouthfuls.

Riley used to have very short horizons. Now the future stretches out further than he can see.

They've made the starship Eurydice their home and forged a family out of the strange and dangerous crew, but when the past comes calling it threatens to drive a wedge between them all and shatter the bonds they've made.

With the crew of the Eurydice scattered and an unknown menace stalking them across the universe, Max and Riley are faced with the ultimate question of trust and an enemy neither of them quite knows how to fight.Max Seventeen, available from Amazon, was the first book to win the Romantic Novelists Association’s Paranormal Romantic Novel of the Year.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

The trophy has my name on it. It doesn't even say Moonlight or anything.

Yes, Max triumphed at the RoNAs, winning the inaugural Paranormal award and also being the first ever self-published book to win a RoNA!

I'm still in something of a daze, and can't really remember an awful lot of the evening (I thought I was okay until I sat down and tried to text my dad and realised my hands were shaking). I hope I thanked the right people. I really hope I didn't say 'fuck' in front of Prue Leith.

In case I didn't thank all the right people, I'll do it here.

Thanks so much to the Naughty Kitchen for so much love and support and overall, so much fun: Immi Howson, Alison May, Lisa Hill, Rhoda Baxter Ruth Long and of course fellow RoNA winner Janet Gover. You're all brilliant and I couldn't have done any of it without you.

Extra thanks for Rhoda Baxter who proofread Max (and was cruelly cheated of her own RoNA on the night!) and Ruth Long who edited the book and came all the way over from Dublin to be there on the night.

The RNA, a truly remarkable organisation of really amazing women (and a few men) who are never less than wonderfully supportive, encouraging, and friendly. And who have an awards panel of exceptionally good taste.

My friends, family, first grade teacher, teddy bear...(yeah, that's a lie, of course I had a cat).

Thursday, March 02, 2017

Three years ago, I attended RT Booklovers Convention in New Orleans for the first time, which I loved. I loved the city, but I also loved the convention itself, the buzz that readers and writers always generate around the books they love. Along with my good friend JT Bock, I presented a workshop for writers based on the work of my favourite auteur, Joss Whedon. It was so successful we were invited to present it again as a full day workshop in Maryland the next year. The year after, I presented it to the RNA conference in Lancaster.

In November, we pitched the workshop to the Romance Writers of America annual conference in Orlando. I hadn't visited the States in a couple of years and I was looking forward to it...

...and then the election happened, and the unthinkable became reality. By the time of the inauguration I, like a lot of people, had almost convinced myself that all the abhorrent campaign promises I'd heard were just silly sound bites to get attention, and wouldn't actually come to pass. The ban on travellers from Muslim countries. The Mexican wall. The proposal to seize electronics and download contacts and history from anyone entering the country. Just attention-seeking behaviour, right? Couldn't actually happen.

And then they began happening.

And our Joss Whedon workshop was accepted by RWA, and I found myself on the horns of a dilemma.

Do I want to travel to America (at great expense: we're looking at a ballpark of around £2,000) only to have my phone and iPad seized, confiscated, scrutinised, cloned? I write action/adventure and spy novels, so I'll let you imagine what my browser history is like. My social media is a giant middle finger flipped at the current US administration. (And while we're on the subject I ain't exactly happy about Brexit, but that's a rat for another day).

Should I leave my electronics at home? Spend even more on new devices just so I can contact colleagues in America and family back home? What about the presentation and notes I'll need for the conference? Why should I have to make such ridiculous allowances?

How can I get travel insurance against it? (The answer is I can't. If I'm detained or sent home, I get zip. You can't insure against something that might, maybe, but probably, happen.)

Of course I could be making a fuss over nothing. I could arrive at US immigration with my white face and blonde hair and British passport and good old fashioned Christian name and be waved through with a smile. I won't be detained for wearing a hijab, or not speaking English, or having a weird green passport, or Looking A Bit Foreign.

But you know what? I'm not sure I want to go somewhere I'm only welcome because my Irish grandfather bequeathed me his complexion and my parents had me baptised in the Church of England.

Thursday, February 09, 2017

For the first time ever there is a paranormal category, and Max is shortlisted alongside Jan Jones's An Ordinary Gift, Christina Courtenay's The Velvet Cloak of Moonlight and Hywela Lyn's Beloved Enemy.

There are five other categories: Contemporary (the Untied Kingdom was shortlisted here in 2012), Epic, Historical, Romantic Comedy and Young Adult, plus the RoNA Rose for shorter fiction. There are so many fantastic books on those lists I don't even know where to start!

To celebrate, Max is on sale for 99p, rising back up to its regular price over the week. So get in fast! Just click the link here...

The awards are announced on 13th March at a very fancy ceremony in London, by guest presenter Prue Leith. Wish us luck!

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

The first Luke Sharpe File, Worth A Shot, will be released 13th December 2016. This is a little companion novella, running alongside I, Spy? but from Luke's point of view. After all, he can't just sit around waiting for Sophie to get into trouble: he's got a life of his own!

Luke Sharpe is a spy. And he's good at what he does. He's smart, he's brave, he's loyal. So what on Earth has just possessed him to hire Sophie Green, an incompetent, untrainable blonde, as his new partner?

Get into the mind of Sophie's favourite spy as he tries to answer that question for himself, and discover what he was really up to when he was out of her sight.

This 40,000 word novella runs alongside I, Spy?, the first in the popular Sophie Green series of mysteries.

And! Just in case you haven't checked out the re-released I, Spy? it will be FREE on Kindle for five days from 9th December. Merry Christmas!

Tuesday, November 01, 2016

Yes, Max is finally here! And to celebrate I thought I'd answer a few questions about it...Is the glitch fixed?Yes! If you buy Max now, you'll get a lovely properly formatted file. If you've already got the wrongly formatted file (you'll know when you see it) Amazon should be issuing an update soon. If you really can't wait, let me know (details below) and I'll sort you out.Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming...What inspired you to write Max Seventeen?

Tom Hopper's amazing arms.

No, not really. Inspiration's a hard thing to pin down, but my major influences at the time were Black Sails and Mad Max: Fury Road. One is a drama about the Golden Age of Piracy that's full of sex and violence. The other is a non-stop dystopian car chase driven by a hard-as-nails woman.

Tom Hardy & Charlize Theron in Mad Max: Fury Road

As for why it's set in space...mostly because space is cool. Also because I could build whatever sort of worlds there I wanted.

You said there was lots of sex and violence in this book. Will it make me squeamish?

Well, there are only a couple of sex scenes on the page; but off the page, there are quite a few more. And fair warning, they're not all between men and women, so if that offends you, take a long hard look at yourself...

Also, there is quite a lot of blood. In my defence, I really like writing scenes where my characters exchange intimacies while patching each other up.

What did you research for this book?

Well, I'm actually writing a guest post for Libertà on this so I won't spoil it, but a sample of my answers would be: Layers of a planet's atmosphere. How to provide a spaceship with breathable air and gravity. How thick a cutlass blade is. Whether it's actually possible to rip out a human jugular using only your teeth. What that giant sea-dwelling dinosaur in Jurassic World is. Helicon double-layer thrusters. Exoplanets...

What's your favourite line?

This one:

"Oh, fuck the lot of you," Max said.

"You more or less have," replied Orpheus.

Who would play the characters in a film?

Ooh I love this game. Tom Hopper as Riley. Ridiculously tall and muscular but with the most earnest, honest blue eyes. He's adorable, but you wouldn't beat him at arm-wrestling.

Tom Hopper in Black Sails

Zawe Ashton as Max. I didn't have anyone in mind for her when I wrote her. She has the shaved head and general demeanour of Imperator Furiosa, but isn't as pale. Then a few months later the final series of Fresh Meat started and I realised there was a lot of Zawe's character Vod in Max.

Zawe Ashton in Fresh Meat

As for the others...I'll let you suggest them! Captain Orpheus is lean and feline with long dark hair; he rarely smiles. Justine, his second in command, is dark-skinned and regal. Her brother, Émile, describes himself as ugly, but I'm not sure I believe him. Petal, the pilot, is tiny and doll like; I see her as Asian. Murtaugh is bearded and a bit oafish. Hide is simply a mountain of a man. Angharad is red-haired and beautiful, and has been living on a planet with no sunlight.
Tell you what...read it and tell me who should play them!

Monday, October 31, 2016

It's come to my attention that some devices are displaying formatting glitches in the Max Seventeen file. I literally only discovered this less than two hours after the file had gone live, when I was looking at it on my Paperwhite.

I had of course proofed and previewed the file in every way Amazon KDP allows, but somewhere along the way it seems to have become corrupted and the formatting has gone a bit wrong. If you've discovered that the text

".suddenly looks"

", like this"

for no apparent reason

...then I do apologize quite sincerely!

I'm working through the night trying to find out what went wrong and how I can prevent it happening again (it hasn't happened with any of my other books), but in the meantime, I've created a new .mobi format version of the file which you can email directly to your Kindle which appears to have fixed the issue.

If you would like me to send you this, please email me your receipt of purchase for the original Kindle file to katejohnsonauthor@gmail.com and I will send you the .mobi file which you can then email to your Kindle (for instructions see below). I trust you'll understand why I'm asking for the receipt to be included, and that you won't pass on my email to anyone unless they've had the same problem.

To find your Send-to-Kindle e-mail address, visit the Manage your Devices page at Manage Your Kindle (under Your Account). Documents can only be sent to your Kindle devices or apps from e-mail accounts that you added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List.

I am also in the process of uploading the corrected file to Amazon KDP (which I can't do until it's completed the initial publishing process, how frustrating!) so it can update the file you've already bought. You might need to switch on automatic book updates:

To enable Automatic Book Updates:
Go to Manage Your Content and Devices (under Your Account).
Select Settings.
Select Automatic Book Update to expand the section. Select On to receive automatic updates for your book, or select Off to receive an email notification when an update is available to download.

Once again, I apologize for this: please believe that I didn't know anything was wrong until now! This would never have happened if Max and Riley had been here to fix things...

PS: I am reminding myself that the BBC suffered a powercut on the night of BBC2's launch. People nearly missed Playschool.

Yes, Max is finally here! And to celebrate I thought I'd answer a few questions about it...What inspired you to write Max Seventeen?

Tom Hopper's amazing arms.

No, not really. Inspiration's a hard thing to pin down, but my major influences at the time were Black Sails and Mad Max: Fury Road. One is a drama about the Golden Age of Piracy that's full of sex and violence. The other is a non-stop dystopian car chase driven by a hard-as-nails woman.

As for why it's set in space...mostly because space is cool. Also because I could build whatever sort of worlds there I wanted.

You said there was lots of sex and violence in this book. Will it make me squeamish?

Well, there are only a couple of sex scenes on the page; but off the page, there are quite a few more. And fair warning, they're not all between men and women, so if that offends you, take a long hard look at yourself...

Also, there is quite a lot of blood. In my defence, I really like writing scenes where my characters exchange intimacies while patching each other up.

What did you research for this book?

Well, I'm actually writing a guest post for Libertà on this so I won't spoil it, but a sample of my answers would be: Layers of a planet's atmosphere. How to provide a spaceship with breathable air and gravity. How thick a cutlass blade is. Whether it's actually possible to rip out a human jugular using only your teeth. What that giant sea-dwelling dinosaur in Jurassic World is. Double-layer helicon thrusters. Exoplanets...

What's your favourite line?

This one:

"Oh, fuck the lot of you," Max said.

"You more or less have," replied Orpheus.

Who would play the characters in a film?

Ooh I love this game. Tom Hopper as Riley. Ridiculously tall and muscular but with the most earnest, honest blue eyes. He's adorable, but you wouldn't beat him at arm-wrestling.

Zawe Ashton as Max. I didn't have anyone in mind for her when I wrote her. She has the shaved head and general demeanour of Imperator Furiosa, but isn't as pale. Then a few months later the final series of Fresh Meat started and I realised there was a lot of Zawe's character Vod in Max.

As for the others...I'll let you suggest them! Captain Orpheus is lean and feline with long dark hair; he rarely smiles. Justine, his second in command, is dark-skinned and regal. Her brother, Émile, describes himself as ugly, but I'm not sure I believe him. Petal, the pilot, is tiny and doll like; I see her as Asian. Murtaugh is bearded and a bit oafish. Hide is simply a mountain of a man. Angharad is red-haired and beautiful, and has been living on a planet with no sunlight.
Tell you what...read it and tell me who should play them!